


how to find love in a grocery store

by agetwellcard



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Grocery Store, Jealous Bucky Barnes, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, aka they're mean to each other because they don't know how to deal with their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 08:37:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12678333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agetwellcard/pseuds/agetwellcard
Summary: Bucky has been working at the same grocery store for two years without any hitches.Everything runs smoothly until the day that Steve Rogers is hired as a bagger.





	how to find love in a grocery store

**Author's Note:**

> okay honestly i couldn't help myself. obviously i work in a grocery store and have too much free time imagining cute scenarios for this fic. but also i have very serious headcanons about which department all the marvel characters work in. like obviously natasha works in scanning and is kinda bitchy but very good at her job, tony is the dubious manager that everyone likes because he lets you get away with everything, wanda works in the bakery but literally hates it, and clint works in the deli and steals the bad cuts to give to lucky. i could go on but i won't.

Bucky has been working at the same grocery store for two years without any hitches.

He’s a great cashier. Sure, it took him a while to grasp the system, and he’s had a short drawer a few times, but it’s never been that bad. Actually, compared to his first job as a busboy at a shitty restaurant in town, he’s much happier at the grocery store. He likes most of his coworkers (or at least gets along with them) and has even made a few good friends at work, too. 

Everything runs smoothly until the day that Steve Rogers is hired.

When Bucky first sees the kid, he’s standing awkwardly at the entrance of the store, checking the watch on his bony wrist several times. The only reason he even keeps watching is because (for some unknown reason) he thinks he’s cute. Plus, it’s a slow day, and there’s not much else to do. The blond kid is dressed in black slacks and a nice-looking button up. Bucky has to check the date on his computer to see if it’s actually Sunday and the guy’s just come from church or something. It’s Tuesday.

Eventually, one of the managers comes along and greets him and it’s then that Bucky remembers the talk of a new employee today. Instantly, Bucky clocks him as a new cashier. Before Bucky can get too pissed at the thought that the scrawny kid could take more of Bucky’s already cut hours, a customer comes to his lane and he gets back to work.

He mostly forgets about the kid until a few hours later when Bucky’s halfway through an order, scanning a box of graham crackers, when he realizes that he’s back. He’s watching carefully as Sam, one of Bucky’s favorite baggers, shows him how to strategically bag groceries.

Bucky actually laughs out loud.

“You’re a _bagger_?” he asks the blond kid, who is now wearing a freshly made nametag that says his name is Steven.

“ _Yes_ ,” Steven says now, crossing his arms over his tiny chest defensively. “I am.”

Bucky wants to point out that the kid looks like he could be blown away if the wind is a little too strong one day, but he stops himself from saying it because of the angry look on Steven’s face. The guy is nearly scathing at Bucky, and the last thing he wants is to not get along with someone at work.

It’s then that Bucky stupidly double scans a bottle of vinegar.

This is the first of many mistakes that Steven is partially responsible for.

***

It’s the very next day that Steven shows up at his lane again. He’s alone this time, clearly having learnt all the skills he was supposed to the day before. Instead of his crisp button-up, he’s instead in an oversized sweater, his hands covered in the long sleeves. He has a hat on too, his blond bangs slipping out and covering his eyes when he leans down to double bag sodas.

It’s not like Bucky is watching him or anything, though.

“It’s only October, you know,” Bucky says teasingly to Steve as he helps him finish bagging the order.

Steven snatches a bag of oranges from him and scowls. “Some of us actually have to go outside,” he says coldly.

“Jeez,” Bucky huffs. “It was just a joke, Steven.”

“Don’t call me that,” he replies quickly.

Bucky huffs out a laugh. “It’s the name on your nametag.”

“I’m Steve,” he says firmly.

“Okay, _Steve_.”

Steve gives him another cold look before carefully depositing the woman’s groceries into her cart. Bucky frowns to himself, wondering why Steve’s acting like Bucky’s actually insulted the guy, when the customer finishes swiping her card and the register opens. Distractedly, Bucky closes the drawer and grabs for the receipt.

“Here’s your receipt, have a good – ”

“I had cash back,” the woman interrupts, looking mildly offended that Bucky forgot.

Bucky blinks at her stupidly for a solid twenty seconds before he realizes she’s right and he’s quickly opening his register to get her the money. As he hands her the cash, he catches Steve smiling to himself.

***

Steve actually gets into the swing of things pretty easily compared to some of the new baggers, and Bucky is even impressed the day he catches him hauling a container of water bottles over to a customer. He even manages to become friendly with most of the people working at the store. Bucky even sees him chatting with Natasha from scanning, who Bucky is admittedly still scared of and avoids at all costs.

The only issue is that sometimes, unfortunately, Steve is Bucky’s bagger.

At first, Bucky tries to be civil with him. He is nice to Steve, and greets him with a warm smile every time he sees him, and even compliments his bright blue mittens he wears on particularly cold days. Steve is just as cold as he was before. No amount of petty small talk melts the ice, either. 

Bucky is civil with him until one particular day.

It’s a good Saturday afternoon, a steady stream of customers through since Bucky started his shift at eight. Steve had arrived shortly after, wearing another sweater that nearly swallows him whole and his pair of gloves, occasionally coming over to Bucky’s lane to bag. They’ve been graciously ignoring each other for most of the day, and Bucky is happy about it. They don’t have to be friends, or even like each other, but as long as they can be civil is all that matters.

Bucky is helping finish up bagging an order as Steve and the customer talk. She knows Steve, happily talking to him in a chirpy English accent. She’s not exactly the type of person Bucky would imagine knowing Steve, but by the sounds of their conversation and the nervous energy coming off from Steve, he’d say they’re not exactly that close, but Steve wants to be.

Bucky quickly bags as Steve shirks his work and fumbles through an awkward conversation with the pretty woman. Bucky happens to glance up at him just when he laughs at a joke the woman makes, his whole face lighting up and a boyish laugh falling from his lips. Bucky realizes he’s never even seen the kid laugh before, which, admittedly, is a shame with how good he sounds doing it.

With only a little bitterness, Bucky is thinking about how cute Steve really is as he finishes the order. He’s angry at Steve for not doing his job, and he’s angry at the woman who gets to talk to a Steve who is actually nice, and he’s angry at himself for even thinking that Steve is goddamn _cute_.

Bucky barely even realizes that Steve’s slipped on his equally oversized coat and is loading her groceries into his cart. He picks up one of the bags that Bucky packed and suddenly it breaks open, a carton of milk slamming into the floor loudly and popping open, the white liquid pooling out quickly.

“Bucky!” Steve exclaims angrily, his face suddenly bright red. He’s looking between the woman and Bucky with a twisted look of embarrassment and anger. “Why wouldn’t you double bag this? You know how bad these bags are. Now I have to – “

“I wouldn’t have had to bag it in the first place if you hadn’t forgotten how to do your job when one pretty girl talks to you,” Bucky quickly hisses at him, suddenly forgoing all proper etiquette. He refuses to be blamed for this.

“That is not – it’s not like – Be quiet, Bucky,” Steve snaps, stuttering and blushing harder as he rushes off to retrieve a mop.

Bucky looks over to the customer who is gaping at the milk covering the floor. “I’m really sorry about this,” Bucky tells her carefully, suddenly a little embarrassed for his outburst. Pointedly, though, Bucky makes sure Steve is back before he tells her, “I’m sure Steve would be happy to get you a new milk.”

Steve sends him a dirty look as he finishes cleaning up the spill and then scuttling off to get her another milk. When he gets back, he carefully bags the milk (in _three_ bags) and tries to smile at the woman. He’s clearly still embarrassed, though, and is still fumbling over his words when he says, “I’m really sorry that – Sorry about all that.”

***

After that, the two of them go back and forth.

Bucky goes on break and finds Steve cleaning the bathroom, to which Bucky promptly uses the urinal while Steve resolutely cleans the sink a little bit harder.

Steve gets his revenge when Bucky accidentally rings up two-thousand avocados. The customer and Steve are joking about it while they wait for a manager to come and clear it.

“Oh man,” Steve says, shaking his head as he soaks in Bucky’s embarrassment. “Can you imagine? You could make a lot of guacamole with two-thousand avocados, don’t you think, Bucky?”

Bucky huffs in frustration but still tries to be light for the customer’s sake. “You bet.”

Steve spends the next few hours making jokes with all the rest of the baggers and cashiers about Bucky’s slip up, and even telling the story to every customer in line who buys avocados. Not long after that Bucky is leaving work and sees Steve gathering carts in the parking lot. He knows Steve is watching him when he grabs three carts from the cart corral closest to the door and takes them all the way to the one in the back, right next to Bucky’s car.

Steve gets back at him by purposefully spending a whole day avoiding helping Bucky. They’re short on baggers, and Steve only helps all the registers but Bucky’s all day long, leaving him to bag groceries to impatient customers.

Bucky repays that jab by buying a cart full of groceries one day after a long shift and specifically going for the register that Steve is bagging, demanding that he bag them all in double paper and then put those bags in plastic. Steve bags as slow as possible and then gets even more more annoyed when Bucky decides he wants his help out to the car with them. They trudge out in the dark, snowy parking lot and Steve makes quick work of putting all his groceries away.

Bucky holds out a five for Steve, but when he begrudgingly reaches out to take it, Bucky holds it up above his head where Steve can’t reach it. He feels vaguely bad about it when he catches the dejected look on Steve’s face so he reaches over and puts it in his coat pocket. He doesn’t mean for it to feel so intimate, but suddenly the motion seems strange and awkward.

Steve clears his throat and starts to walk away. “You’re an asshole.”

“Hey!” Bucky yells after him. “I want to talk to the manager!”

Steve flips him off over his shoulder and Bucky barks out a laugh. Over the rattle of the cart, Bucky swear he hears Steve laugh.

***

A few days before Christmas, the store is unusually slow. It’s only eight o’clock on a Monday morning, but being so close to Christmas, the manager had scheduled a few too many people to work. Bucky spends the first two hours of his shift yawning and checking the time every few minutes and staring daggers at Steve as he vacuums the floor mats by the door.

 When the manager, Tony, asks if anyone wants to help stock, Bucky is quick to offer his help. It’s only right after he agrees that Steve is also excitedly stepping forward and nearly tripping on the vacuum cord. Bucky holds in his groan but can’t help the annoyed glare he sends Steve over his shoulder.

As they follow Tony to the back, Bucky leans in close to Steve and goes, “You can’t even carry the boxes.”

“Hey, genius,” he says. “Have you ever heard of a thing called a u-boat cart?”

Tony looks over his shoulder with a worried expression on his face. Bucky and Steve both smile really wide, which probably makes the situation worse.

He sets them up with a stack of boxes all labeled with the different brands that, once Bucky figures out how to use the box cutter while Steve offers no help, are actually full of different spices and seasonings. They trudge the u-boat all the way to aisle thirteen, Steve not contributing at all.

“Thanks for all the help,” Bucky hisses, nearly hitting a poor elderly lady as he rounds the corner.

Steve snickers. “I’m making sure you don’t drop anything.”

Once they finally reach the aisle, Bucky pulls out of the little containers. “Do you see any fennel seeds?”

Steve is busy working on his own box and pretends like he doesn’t even hear Bucky. The two of them spend the next hour bickering as they work on unpacking all the boxes. It’s a small space where they’re stocking and the two of them keep pushing the other to get to the product they’re looking for. Even worse, Bucky can’t help but to “accidentally” knock over the perfect row of spices that Steve’s just stocked.

It’s quiet for a little while, though, as Bucky is stocking the pumpkin pie spice, and he looks up to find Steve staring deeply at a box of brownie mix across the aisle.

“Hungry?” Bucky asks, amused.

Steve blinks a few times and then looks over, his face getting slightly red. “No, I just.” Steve shakes his head and looks down to the open box in his lap. “Just sick of being in this confined space with you, obviously.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Bucky echoes in an obnoxious voice. “It must be so hard for you to be so close to such a handsome and strong guy.”

Steve scoffs. “Please. More like, I had to daydream about those brownies because of how horrible it is.”

“Seriously? Those boxed brownies is what really is horrible. If you were going to dream about dessert, at least do better than that.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were a Food Network host, Bucky,” Steve says sarcastically. “Tell me more about the culinary school you went to.”

Bucky wishes there wasn’t a child a few feet away because he’d be giving Steve a certain hand gesture.

“It’s called, my mom taught me how to bake because she never wanted me to endure the horrible taste of dessert mixes.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “That’s pretty impressive. I forgot just how _cool_ you were.”

Bucky knocks off a few of the black pepper tins Steve just stocked and glares at him.

“I bet anything you’ve ever baked is horrible,” Steve says, not breaking eye contact. “I’d throw them all away.”

Bucky actually gasps. “You’ve clearly never tasted my chocolate chip cookies.”

“ _Clearly_.”

 “I bet if you tasted them you wouldn’t even be able to fake that you didn’t like them because of how good they are.”

“Yeah, and when are you going to make me these cookies?”

“Never. Not for you.”

Steve actually looks a little offended as he huffs out a sigh and reaches for the next box. He snags the box cutter and struggles with it for a few seconds before he suddenly makes a wrong move and hisses, “ _Shit_.”

Bucky is confused for a few seconds until he sees the box cutter clatter to the ground and Steve grimace as he looks down at his hand. There’s blood.

Steve instantly clasps his hand over the blood and starts to stand. Bucky can’t help but to crowd him, though, concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“Bucky, _move_ ,” he says sternly.

Steve pushes past him and rushes away towards the bathroom. Bucky frowns at him until he finally sets into motion, heading for the first aid kit that’s behind the service desk. He grabs some bandages and disinfectant and then heads for the bathroom himself. When he swings the door open, Steve is at the sink running water of the cut with an annoyed look on his face. When he glances up and sees Bucky, he only looks more annoyed.

“It’s just a cut,” Steve insists, turning off the water and grabbing some paper towel to dab at the cut. More blood seeps through the white paper, though.

“Is it deep? Do you need to get stiches? Should you fill out a workplace injury form?”

Steve looks up at him with an exasperated expression on his face. “Seriously, Bucky? _No_. It’s just a little cut. I’m fine.”

When Steve moves the paper towel away, the cut doesn’t look that bad, but it’s still bleeding. Steve reaches out and snatches the disinfectant away from Bucky and oozes some onto the cut. Bucky starts to unwrap the bandage, but Steve then takes that too.

“I can do it myself. Go back to stocking,” Steve huffs out.

Bucky, suddenly upset after just trying to help, sighs and stomps out of the bathroom and heads back to aisle thirteen. He finishes opening Steve’s box and then stocks it, already finished with it by the time Steve comes back and says he’s going on break without looking Bucky in the eyes.

***

Steve and Bucky mostly find a resolve on Christmas Eve.

It’s only ten o’clock, the last two baggers besides Steve having just clocked out, so it’s only Bucky and Steve until midnight. The two of them seem to manage working similar shifts, but this particular nightmare hasn’t happened to them yet. When Bucky had checked the bagger’s schedule to see who was working with him, he had been less than impressed to find Steven Rogers working four to midnight.

Usually Bucky is happy to chat idly with whoever is left with him, but tonight the two of them are mostly quiet as Bucky sweep between the registers and Steve replaces the plastic bags. Bucky had quietly asked if Steve’s cut was healing, but Steve had mostly ignored him. Eventually, though, Steve drops a heavy box of bags onto the floor and sighs loudly.

“This is messed up,” he finally says, crossing his skinny arms over his chest.

Bucky hums, not entirely sure what exactly is messed up in this situation. He could think of a few things that –

“It’s Christmas Eve!” Steve exclaims. “We should be home with our families.”

Bucky actually snorts when he hears this. “It doesn’t really matter to me.”

Steve gives him his trademark annoyed look. “How?” he says now. “Don’t you want to be spending the night watching bad Christmas movies or eating pie or – “

“Steve,” Bucky says, holding back his laugh. “I’m Jewish.”

Steve’s mouth snap shuts and his goes a bright red. “ _Oh_ ,” he squeaks. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I didn’t mean to – “

“Jesus, Steve, calm down. Why are you even apologizing?”

“I don’t know, I just, it seemed rude,” Steve babbles, face managing to get even more red. He’s hesitant for a few seconds before he quietly asks, “Did you have a good Hanukah?”

Bucky shrugs. “It was okay. I spent most of it working and doing school work.”

Steve frowns and before he can open his mouth to say something, a customer comes up with a pack of beer and pint of ice cream. Bucky rings up his purchase and then goes back to sweeping, Steve now moved onto restocking the paper bags.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” Bucky asks Steve. He doesn’t mean to sound so interested, but he is.

Steve makes a face. “I don’t really have much family, truth be told. I’ll probably spend tomorrow with my mom, mostly.”

Bucky nods. “Well, I have too much family, you can have some.”

Just then, Steve smiles at him. It’s rare that he actually sees Steve direct that smile at him. Usually, it’s to a customer he’s having a good conversation with or when he’s joking around with Sam or having a conversation with Natasha. Never at Bucky, though. It makes Bucky smile to himself, looking down to his hands.

Just then, a customer walks up to Bucky’s register and he is vaguely upset at them for ruining the moment. The nights goes a little faster after that, and the two of them spend the two hours going back and forth from goofing off and telling actual serious stories before they realize it’s five minutes before midnight and start getting ready to leave.

After they’ve checked out with the night manager, they get on their coats and head out to the parking lot. Bucky feels nervous as they silently walk beside each other before he finally reaches into his pocket and produces a bag of cookies. He holds them out to Steve.

“I, um, made a batch the other day and had some extra so I thought I’d bring you some to prove that I do make amazing cookies,” Bucky says, like he didn’t actually spend all last night trying to make the perfect batch of cookies to give to Steve. It’s embarrassing, Bucky knows.

Steve seems genuinely surprised, and it takes him a few seconds before he actually takes the bag and opens it. Bucky watches hesitantly as Steve takes a bite and chews thoughtfully. He can’t make out the expression on his face in the dimly lit parking lot, but he does see the small smile. “Okay,” Steve says. “I guess they’re not _that_ bad.”

Bucky laughs and rolls his eyes. “You’re a menace,” he mutters. “So, you’re not going to throw them all away then?”

Steve looks over to him, still smiling. “Only if you promise to bring me more when you bake them again.”

“Maybe. If you’re lucky.”

Just then, Bucky’s realized he’s followed Steve all the way to his car without thinking. Now, they’re both standing next to it in the cold and dark parking lot not saying anything as Steve looks down to his bag of cookies. When he looks up, Bucky swallows thickly and tries to think of something to say. After a few seconds of staring at each other and not making any moves, Bucky breaks the eye contact and hates himself a little for doing absolutely _nothing_.

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” he says quietly.

Steve smiles. “Thanks, Bucky.”

Giving him one last glance, Bucky starts to head to his car a few rows over.

***

Bucky doesn’t work for a few days after Christmas Eve. He spends his days off watching Netflix to distract himself from how much he wants to agonize over his night with Steve. He wants to pick at every detail and redo their entire interaction until he actually did something right that night.

By the time he goes back to work, he’s actually happy to have annoyed customers to distract him. To make matters worse, Steve is there when Bucky clocks in on his first day back. They don’t instantly jump at each other’s throats, but they also aren’t overly friendly like Christmas Eve.

Things go on, and Bucky tries to put the night behind him.

One day, though, Bucky and Steve end their shifts at the same time. The two of them childishly race each other to the time clock, Bucky easily winning. They don’t say goodbye, but Bucky gives him a scowl before he heads back to the dairy section.

After meandering around the store for a while, only really picking up a carton of chocolate milk and some blueberries, Bucky goes to check out. He’s close enough to the door that he can see and hear Steve, who is wrapped in his winter coat and talking into his phone.

“No, I just need for you – Please, I have no ride,” he says, clearly upset. His face is turned from Bucky, but he can guarantee that he’s probably red in the face already. “I can’t take the bus, okay? It doesn’t run this late.”

Bucky tries not to make it look like he’s listening, but after he gets his groceries he doesn’t think twice about walking up to Steve and offering him a ride home.

“I don’t need a ride home,” Steve instantly snaps at him, now furiously typing away on his phone, not even bothering to look up at Bucky.

Bucky nods. “Yeah, well, I heard you on the phone and it didn’t sound like they were gonna help you out, so I thought I could. It’s not a big deal.” Bucky realizes that maybe he’s being too nice to Steve. “If you’re lucky, I’ll even let you sit in the front seat.”

“I don’t need your help,” he says angrily, nearly causing a scene as he turns away from Bucky.

Bucky sighs and then slowly walks out. He’s only a few steps from the automatic doors when Steve races after him.

“Wait, Bucky!” he says, flailing his arms to make Bucky stop. “I’ll take your ride.”

Smirking, Bucky raises his eyebrow playfully. “What if I rescinded my offer?”

Steve’s shoulders drop. He’s already half turned away when Bucky quickly says, “I’m only joking. Come on.”

Steve wobbles behind him, telling him how to get to his apartment and trying not to slip over the ice. When they go over a particularly bad patch, Steve almost falls over, but Bucky grabs his arm and keeps him upright. Steve says nothing, but he pulls his arm away so quickly Bucky almost feels offended.

The first thing Steve says when he gets into Bucky’s car is, “ _Jesus Christ_. How much fast food do you eat?”

Bucky refuses to be embarrassed by _Steve Rogers_ as he scoops up discarded bags of fast food places and throws them in the back seat. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who hasn’t eaten at a fast food place in years because you’re too good for it.”

Steve is silent for a few guilty seconds. “It’s horrible for you,” he starts, but Bucky stops him with a shake of his head as he turns on the car and music starts to play louder than intended. Steve seems amused as Bucky quickly turns it down.

“Are you a closeted Taylor Swift fan, Bucky?”

Bucky does actually manage to feel a little embarrassed by this. “Shut up,” he grumbles. “It’s catchy, that’s all.”

Bucky is pulling out of the parking lot, but happens to look over and see Steve smiling sweetly. “They kind of are.”

This is, of course, when Bucky’s playlist manages to play _another_ horrible Taylor Swift song. Bucky will be damned if he lets Steve Rogers embarrass him so he starts to sing along, voice loud and obnoxious and out of tune. Bucky feels hot all over and maybe a little stupid, but he almost can’t believe it when he hears Steve’s deep voice joining him.

He tries to hold it together enough to get through the chorus, but he falls apart when Steve’s voice breaks at a particularly high note. He’s laughing so hard he’s worried he’s going to crash the car, all while Steve keeps singing. Bucky eventually pulls it together enough to join back in, and by the end of the song, the two of them are belting along.

When it finishes, they break into laughter at the same time.

“You’re a horrible singer,” Steve tells him.

Bucky pretends to be offended. “Me? Have you heard yourself?”

“Hey, my mom thinks I’m a great singer.”

Bucky smiles. “I bet she does.”

They sing along to a few more embarrassing pop songs on Bucky’s playlist before Bucky realizes that they’re almost at Steve’s place. Stupidly, Bucky doesn’t want for his time with Steve to be up. It’s ridiculous considering how much time they spend together at work, but Bucky still quickly changes lanes so that he can pull into the Burger King last minute.

“Do you want a milkshake? Or are you going to go home and eat some quinoa?”

Bucky can practically hear the way he rolls his eyes. “Quinoa is not that bad, Bucky, and I bet it could do you some good if you added it to your diet.”

“I’m going to get you the worst flavor they have if you don’t tell me what kind of milkshake you want.”

Predictably, Steve asks for a vanilla. Bucky goes for chocolate and pays with some cash he has lying around in the cup holder. Steve tries to offer him some crumpled ones (most likely tips) but Bucky shoos him away.

The actual trip only really kills a few minutes, but there’s something satisfactory about the way Steve leans back in his seat and drinks his milkshake. Bucky turns into the parking lot of Steve’s apartment complex and slows to stop at the doors, putting the car into park and turning to Steve. He’s looking out the window, his milkshake forgotten between his thighs. When he looks over, he catches Bucky staring at him and he actually smiles at it.

“What? Is my hair messed up?”

Bucky smirks. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad actually.” Then, he reaches over and muses Steve’s hair, blond strands messily falling into his eyes. The touch wasn’t supposed to be anything more than friendly (or at least a decent excuse to touch Steve), but that doesn’t stop Bucky from letting his hand linger, palm sliding down his face until he’s cradling Steve’s cheek.

As usual, Steve refuses to back down from a challenge. He sits as he is, the smile on his face just barley a flicker. Bucky realizes then that Steve actually seems _amused_. Bucky’s about to have a heart attack with how fast his heart is racing, and Steve is amused by it.

Horrified, Bucky then realizes that Steve is _waiting_ for him.

Steve practically sighs into Bucky’s mouth when they kiss. Bucky had been worried it was just him, and that he had been making all of this up, but all of his worries are swept away with the gentle press of Steve’s lips. Bucky’s thumb is stroking Steve’s cheek when he turns his body to get a better angle.

Steve pulls away abruptly, muttering, “ _Shit_.”

Bucky thinks he must’ve done something wrong, but then he realizes it’s because Steve’s dropped his milkshake, it’s contents thrown up all over the floor mat of Bucky’s car. Steve is flailing around and opening up Bucky’s glove department.

“ _Napkins_ , Buck. Do you have napkins?”

It’s then that Bucky comes back to life and pulls some out and hands Steve a stack.

“I’m really sorry,” Steve says, trying and failing to clean up his mess. Bucky starts laughing then, struck by what exactly just happened. “Stop laughing at me!”

This only makes Bucky laugh louder. He unbuckles his seatbelt and leans forward to help Steve mop up what he can.

“I think it’s going to stain,” Steve says mournfully, clutching at a handful of dirty napkins.

Bucky smirks. “Steve, my car is a piece of shit. A milkshake stain is the least of my worries.”

Steve seems to be a little less worried after Bucky tells him this. Bucky fishes around in the backseat until he finds a half-empty McDonalds’ bag and stuffs the napkins in it.

There’s a few seconds of silence until Steve says, “I’m sorry, Buck.”

“I liked it better when you were mean,” Bucky jokes. Steve gives him a little smile. “How about this: you give me your number and I’ll text updates on if it stains or not.”

Steve scoffs. “Really? That’s the worst thing you ever could’ve come up with to ask me for my number.”

“I can do one worse,” Bucky offers, smirking wickedly. “I could also say that if you wanted we could get together again out of work for a date maybe, and this time I could spill a milkshake in _your_ car.”

Steve actually hides his face in his hands and laughs when he hears this. “You’re such a jerk, you know that?”

“I’m sure some punk bagger at the grocery store has mentioned it before.”

Steve gives him another look, but also digs out his phone from his coat pocket and fiddles with it for a few seconds before handing it over to Bucky. The screen is on a blank contact. Bucky quickly adds in his information, making the name, ‘Cutest Cashier You Know’ with a heart emoji. Steve seems vaguely amused when he gets it back.

“So, you never said if you wanted to go on that date,” Bucky brings up hopefully.

Steve pockets his phone. “Maybe.”

“Maybe a yes?”

“Maybe a dinner that doesn’t involve milkshakes.”

Bucky smiles. “So, it’s a date?”

Steve rolls his eyes.


End file.
